Bludgers It's a love hate relationship Mostly hate Okay, only hate
by imdeadsothere
Summary: After a mishap with a Bludger, Harry finds himself in the Hospital Wing. Again. Only this time things go a little differently when he wakes up. And a lot better than he could have ever hoped. SLASH. ONE-SHOT. Don't talk to me about the title -hides in shame-


Harry gripped his broom handle tightly, his eyes scanning the air, looking for the small flash of gold that meant the game was almost over. He heard cheers go up from the Slytherin side, cheers that rapidly turned to jeers as the Gryffindor side went wild. Ron had probably blocked another one, but Harry couldn't afford to look right now.

He scanned the pitch again, there, off to his left, a tiny flash. He swung his broom around, heading for where he'd seen the snitch, so focused on trying to find it he completely missed the large bludger heading straight for him. With a sickening crack the bludger hit it's mark, and Harry's world went dark. Across the pitch a quaffle sailed right past Ron, who at that moment could have cared less, as he saw Harry's figure slip off his broom, heading for the hard earth below.

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

Ron was nervously pacing in front of the hospital wing. The game had ended 30 minutes earlier, Malfoy had caught the snitch only minutes after Harry had been knocked off his broom. But Ron could care less who had won, right now Harry was seriously hurt, and Madame Pomphrey refused to let him in, or even tell him what was wrong.

Ron groaned, stopping only to bang his head against the wall.

"No use hurting yourself, too," Hermione said. She was patiently sitting on the bench outside the room, reading one of her books.

"At least getting myself hurt will get me into the hospital wing," Ron grumbled.

"He's going to be okay, Ron," Hermione said gently, putting her book down. "Come on, come sit next to me." She patted the bench next to her. Ron looked over at her, and then trudged over, plopping himself down on the bench beside her.

"Talk to me, Ron," she said, crossing her legs and turning towards him. Ron leaned back against the wall.

"Harry's hurt," he grumbled.

"I know that. I mean, how are you?"

"How do you think I am? Harry's hurt!" he replied.

"Ron," Hermione said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry's hurt, there's nothing I can do about it, I don't even know how bad it is, but it looked pretty bad."

"Harry's strong, and Madame Pomphrey is one of the best healers around. Harry's going to be okay."

"But what if he isn't? What if…" he trailed off. But Hermione didn't need him to finish that sentence. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Ron's torso.

"For now, all we can do is trust," she said. "Everything is going to be okay." Ron sighed. Why this? Why now?

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

Two hours later Madame Pomphrey finally came out.

"He's going to be fine," she said, before either Ron or Hermione could get a word out. "He's resting right now, and you can go in if you promise not to disturb him." They both nodded vigorously. She held the door open for them and they both scrambled in, quickly heading over to the one occupied bed.

And there Harry was. He looked so peaceful. Breathing gently. He looked fine except for the white bandaged wrapped around his head. Ron's breath got stuck in his throat as he looked down at him.

"Ron, breathe," Hermione whispered from next to him. Ron let out a shaky breath and dropped into the chair next to Harry's bed, his eyes still fixated on his friend. He didn't move for the longest time, and when he finally did it was only to place a hand on the edge of Harry's bed, hovering close to where Harry's hand lay.

Ron watched the slow rise and fall of Harry's chest. As long as his chest kept rising and falling Harry was going to be fine. He glanced up at Harry's face. His glasses had been removed and placed on the bedside table. His scar poked out from under the bandages. His skin was paler than usual, and had taken a slightly yellowish tinge. But despite all of that, he was still beautiful. Ron reached up, gently brushing his fingers against Harry's cheek. Harry stirred, and Ron instantly jumped up and backed away, excuses starting to form on his lips.

"Is he waking up?" Madame Pomphrey said, walking over to them.

"He just stirred," Hermione replied.

"Should be about time. The potion's wearing off." She came around to the other side of Harry's bed, leaning over him to peak under the bandages. "Looks like he's healing just fine. He looked down at Harry, "Mr. Potter it's time for you to wake up now," she said loudly. Harry stirred again, groaning.

"I'll go grab a potion for the pain, you two make sure he wakes up," she said, heading back towards her office. It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Harry, it's Hermione, we need you to wake up now," she said gently, prompting another groan from Harry. "Come on Harry, it's time to wake up, Madame Pomphrey needs to check to make sure everything's okay and we can't do that if you're asleep, come on now." Harry shifted, his eyelids starting to flutter. Hermione poked Ron in the side, "you say something."

"Uh, Harry, it's Ron, wake up… please?" Harry's eyes fluttered open. He looked pained, his eyes searching around. They locked onto Ron and Hermione just as Madame Pomphrey arrived.

"Oh good, you're awake," she said, Harry turned to look at her, flinching from the pain the movement caused. "I brought you some potion for the pain, if you could please open up." Harry's lips parted and she poured the potion between his lips. He closed his mouth and swallowed, his face quickly softening as the potion went to work. He blinked a couple times and then turned back at Ron and Hermione.

"Ron?" he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Hey Harry," Ron said.

"What happened?"

"You got hit in the head by a bludger."

Harry blinked a couple of times, trying to recall the memory. Eventually the only response he could give was "ouch."

"Yeah, ouch," Ron replied, smiling softly. Some color was starting to return to Harry's cheeks.

"So… we lost?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, we lost. But it's okay, as long as you're okay." Harry smiled up at Ron. Hermione just smiled, slowly shaking her head.

"Well, it's great seeing how well you're doing, Harry," Hermione said, reaching out and giving Harry's hand a firm squeeze, "but Ron's got something to tell you and I think it's best if you two are alone." Hermione let go of Harry and promptly saw herself out. Harry turned to look at Ron, a worried expression crossing his face.

"Nothing like that," Ron said, watching as the worry melted off of Harry's face.

"Oh good, what is it then?"

"I, uh, I'll tell you later, you should probably rest now."

"You can't just tell me you have something to tell me and leave me hanging," Harry said. "C'mon, Ron, spit it out."

"I fancy you."

"What?"

"I said, I fancy you."

"I heard I just…" Harry trailed off.

"It's okay if you're weirded out, and don't want to talk to me I just… I was planning on telling you after the game thinking after we won you'd be in a good mood and wouldn't get as angry but then you got hurt and I was so worried it was bad and I would never even get the chance but then you were okay and I was like oh he's fine now I don't have to say it but…" Ron let out a frustrated sigh, not quite sure how to put his thoughts into words.

"Ron?" I'm not weirded out, I swear. Just… surprised."

"That I like blokes?"

"That you like me back."

"Yeah well I gues… did you say back?"

"Yes."

"You fancy me?"

"Really?"

"I said yes already, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did."

The two stared at each other, neither quite sure what was supposed to happen next, though Harry was stuck in bed which made things a little more complicated.

"So… now what?"

"I… don't really know. My experience with dating is pretty crummy."

"You had Cho."

"She thought I was cheating on her and ran out. Besides I didn't really care about Cho. Not really, not like I do with you. Cho was just a pretty girl but you're my best mate. If I screw up with her that's bad but if I screw up with you I lose my best friend. And I _really_ don't want that happen."

"You're not gonna screw up with me," Ron assured him.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you hold my hand?"

"Yeah." Ron reached out, taking a hold of Harry's hand, their palms resting together while their fingers intertwined.

And then Harry gave him the most brilliant smile, "there, that's a start," he said proudly.

"Yes," Ron replied, leaning in and kissing Harry softly on the cheek, "it certainly is."

~.oOo.,.oOo.,.oOo.~

AN. This is sweeter and more awkward than my usual. But I'm kinda proud of that. I'm so used to writing passionate make out scenes that a fic where they didn't even kiss on the lips is a refreshing break. Plus it totally has the awkwardness of young love! (Not that I would really know considering I've never dated, but whatever!)


End file.
